Film Review: Dance, Girl, Dance

  "Dance, Girl, Dance"

   *** 1\2 (out of ****)

Chorus girl movies. That's what I've always called them but that is not an identifiable genre. These were movies centered around working class female characters that were employed as chorus girls. They were attractive women with sharp tongues, a witty one-liner was their specialty. They flirted with starvation and not paying their rent, which led some of them on the prowl for a sugar daddy. Others were caught in a triangle between a wealthy man and a poor one. Which one would she choose? The movies were popular during the Great Depression and Warner Brothers released a good many of them under the Gold Digger series - made in 1929, 1933, and 1935 among others. The women had independence until they were hungry. Then it was every woman for herself!

"Dance, Girl, Dance" (1940) directed by Dorothy Arzner was a reaction to those movies and calls out what they merely implied. Here is a movie with feminist themes - denouncing the male gaze, highlighting the false work paths women must choose - but also a commentary on art and the distinction between high brow versus low brow, and the difference between art and entertainment.

The film follows two female dancers; Judy (Maureen O'Hara) and Bubbles (Lucille Ball). Judy is the "serious" dancer. She studies ballet. Bubbles has sex appeal and knows how to flaunt it. Men can possibly appreciate the technical skill involved in what Judy is doing but they want to watch Bubbles. These two characters will go on completely different career paths and their divide sets up the many conflicts in "Dance, Girl, Dance" - can you achieve success without losing respectability? Do men truly value art or a pair of pretty legs? By the end of "Dance, Girl, Dance" husband and wife screenwriters Tess Slesinger and Frank Davis will answer these questions in the most explosive way.

The plot gets a bit more complicated due to the appearance of two male characters. One man is a wealthy drunkard, Jimmy Harris (Louis Haywood). He carries a torch for his soon-to-be ex-wife, Elinor (Virginia Field) but is not above playing with the affections of Judy and Bubbles, depending upon his state of sobriety. The other man is Steve Adams (Ralph Bellamy), the manager of a ballet academy. 

Just as the women in the film represent larger themes, so too do the men signify something more.  One of the subjects of "Dance, Girl, Dance" is the male viewer and Jimmy and Steve are flip sides of the same coin. Unbeknownst to the women in the film, both Steve and Jimmy are wealthy. Steve may run a ballet academy and appears to be a proper gentleman but he is not above ogling at a pretty lady. He flirts with Judy the first time he sees her, not knowing she is a dancer. When he discovers that she is, he attends one of her performances with his dance instructor. The instructor compliments her footwork while Steve compliments her eyes. Judy is working at a Burlesque show, dancing ballet. The men aren't pleased by her fancy footwork and want to see something more risqué. But if Steve is such a gentleman, is attracted to Judy, and appreciates her dancing, why doesn't he defend her honor from the loud and overwhelming boos coming from the largely male audience?

That distinguishes Steve from Jimmy. Outwardly Jimmy is a vulgar drunk. Exactly the kind of man you'd think would yell insulting remarks at a pretty chorus girl dancing. And yet it is Jimmy that is always advocating for the value of these women. He is in the audience for one of the same performances Steve is but it is Jimmy who shouts at the other men to allow Judy to go on with her routine while Steve just sits by. Sure Steve doesn't make nasty remarks, which is worth something, but is he just as complicit by staying silent but noticing Judy's pretty eyes? The film however wants us to think of Steve as the "good guy" despite this.

Then there is the matter of how Judy and Bubbles respond to and treat men. Steve and Jimmy are attracted to Judy but Judy won't give Steve the time of day. On the surface, Steve is the nicer guy. Judy has never seen Steve drunk but always seems to meet Jimmy under those conditions. Jimmy blows hot and cold switching between Judy and Bubbles, and yet Judy is always willing to forgive him. Why is that? It's because Judy is attracted to Jimmy and not Steve. While "Dance, Girl, Dance" shows us a world where women are presented as viewing objects for the pleasure of men, sometimes, depending on the man, a woman likes to be looked at.

Arzner gets this concept across within the film's opening sequence. The film begins with the chorus girls singing and dancing to the Beer Barrel Polka but notice how Arzner and her cinematographer, Russell Metty, shoot the number. The women are wearing skirts that are above the knee with black stockings that meet them, so we really don't see any bare flesh. It has sex appeal but isn't vulgar. Importantly the camera doesn't linger on the girls or their legs. Arzner cuts away from the women to shots of the orchestra and then goes into an extreme long shot showing the women dancing but we see the back of the crowd's heads. The top of their heads serve as a dividing line so we only see the women from the waist up. The sequence isn't really about the dancing, since we don't see it, and its not really meant to emphasize sex appeal because the camera doesn't linger on the women, like a vulture going after it's prey. What happens however is as the women are dancing, they take off their top hats and point them towards the audiences. The top of their hats has a mirror which they use to put a spotlight on the men in the audience. Judy and Bubbles both notice Jimmy sitting down and give him a flirtatious smile. Bubbles takes it a step further and puts her mirror spotlight on him. Jimmy responds by blocking the mirror's reflection. That move bruises Bubble's ego, as we can see she feels rejected.

Lets compare this opening to "The Gay Divorcee" (1934), the first RKO musical to give Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers starring roles together. Here is how I described the opening sequence in my review of that film, "The opening number in the movie is called "Don't Let It Bother You". It is sung by an all-female chorus at a French nightclub. The ladies are wearing very short dresses so the viewer can see their legs and garter belts as they stand on a revolving stage. There is a counter top where they can rest their hands, which are dressed as miniature dolls, with their fingers acting as the doll's legs. After the chorus sings the song the lights go dim and the camera closes in on the dolls as they appear to be dancing. However, you will notice the camera doesn't go in for a close-up. Instead it is a long shot. The viewer can still perfectly see the ladies' legs in frame with the dolls providing a not so subtle hint of sex appeal. Certainly you could have filmed this sequence with a close-up of only the dolls in frame without showing the chorus girls and their legs." Do you see the difference between "The Gay Divorcee" and what  Arzner did?

That leads us to a famous speech at the end of "Dance, Girl, Dance". A character sternly tells the men in the audience how they, the female performers, are acutely aware of how men look at them while they dance. The character wants to men to know they aren't getting away with anything. But in this opening sequence we see how women can use the attention that is placed on them and flip it to their advantage, if they find a man that is attractive to them. The flirting can go both ways. It is a kind of dance if you will. This is why New Yorker critic Richard Brody wrote one of the film's themes is love versus lust. Although he didn't fully explain that thought, I interpret it as referring to the Judy / Jimmy / Steve triangle. Judy and Jimmy represent lust and Steve, the film wants us to believe, is love. He genuinely cares for Judy. That's why the final line of the film is given by a tearful woman, crying on a man's shoulder. She says it could have all been so easy. She complicated her life by following lust instead of love. 

While the speech near the end, calling out the male gaze, is memorable and gets all of the attention, there is another sequence that I find more egregious in the sexism it presents. The women are sent by their agent (Maria Ouspenskaya) to audition a hula routine for a club owner. The agent is concerned because there's a chance Bubbles won't make the audition on time. Without Bubbles, the agent knows the male club owner won't be interested. None of the other women have that same "it" factor that Bubbles has. But the women go anyway, while the club owner stares on in a zombie like trance. Completely uninterested. When Bubbles shows up late, the owner becomes alive and animated. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth as he watches Bubbles do a solo.

This sequence stood out to me because I wondered if the agent was a stand in for Arzner. Arzner understood how the male dominated world of moviemaking worked. What the expectations were. How women were supposed to be filmed. Sex sells. The agent doesn't seem to relish what she is doing. She clearly understands the women aren't being admired for their dancing ability but what can she do? She can't fight the system and the women need a job in order to eat. It creates a vicious cycle of women compromising themselves all for the satisfaction of male viewers. Watching this sequence I was reminded of something I read Amy Holden Jones, the director of the 80's horror slasher film "Slumber Party Massacre" (1982), said about the nude scenes in that movie. She knew she had to do it because that's what the client (the studio) wanted, so she figured she would just shoot them early to get them over with, and get on with the picture. It's sad to think this is what women have had to put up with for years to make it in the entertainment industry. To Jones' credit, she was able to create a social commentary even within those nude scenes.

Whereas the famous male gaze speech near the end, double-crosses itself. Critics, with the singular focus of only emphasizing the feminist themes in the film, neglect to describe what comes after the speech. After the speech is given, "Dance, Girl, Dance" goes for humor as two women begin fighting with each other on the stage. The woman making the speech wanted to end things on a high note, demonstrating her moral superiority over the audience. Then she gets knocked down, both literally and fugitively. On one hand that is the essence of comedy, you make a serious statement and then do the unexpected and go for the punchline. But as the marvelous  Alicia Malone articulates in her wonderful book, The Female Gaze, "in the end, the women denigrate themselves for entertainment, just as the audience wanted." 

However the brilliant critic Molly Haskell wrote in her most famous book From Reverence to Rape that the final exchange of the two women, now in court, after their fight is "most beautiful" because to Haskell it reveals that the women did not fight over a man but instead over art and convictions. To me, the real answer is a mixture of both, though I understand Haskell's observation. And Haskell even goes as far as to describe the film as Arzner's  "most explicitly feminist film".

"Dance, Girl, Dance" may be Arzner's most accessible and popular film and ironically she wasn't intended to be the director of the film. Originally the film was to be directed by Roy Del Ruth, a filmmaker who got his start with Mack Sennett and directed some notable musicals and comedies - "Kid Millions" (1934)  with Eddie Cantor, and "Du Barry Was  A  Lady" (1943), an adaption of a Cole Porter Broadway musical, that oddly removed nearly all of his songs but also featured Lucille Ball. Reports suggest Del Ruth struggled with "Dance, Girl, Dance" which was based on a story by Vicki Baum, of "Grand Hotel" (1932) fame. Del Ruth was fired by the producer and replaced by Arzner, who had no experience directing musicals. That didn't stop Arzner however from reshooting everything Del Ruth had done and making her own changes to the story.

One of the significant changes Arzner made was changing the gender of the agent character from male to female. This adds to the emotional complexity of the hula audition scene, and how sad it is to see a woman having to go against her instincts - morally and artistically - and have her girls "sell out". The change also creates a tender mentor / student dynamic, highlighting the importance of female influence on younger women.

Arzner is often credited as "the only woman director of the Golden Age". It sounds impressive (or maddening, depending on your perspective) but it's not exactly accurate. Wanda Tuchock, for example, wrote and directed "Finishing School" (1934). Grace Elliott directed documentaries and in the U.K. there was Elinor Glyn and Jacqueline Logan. A more accurate description would be, Arzner was the only American female director, making fictional feature films in Hollywood. Some of her notable films include "Merrily We Go To Hell" (1932), a pre-code gem starring Sylvia Sidney, that implies an open marriage. There was also "The Bride Wore Red" (1937) with Joan Crawford, "Craig's Wife" (1936) with Rosalind Russell as a domineering, ambitious woman, and finally her directorial debut film, "Fashions for Women" (1927). And in addition to all of this, Arzner is also credited with having invented the boom mike, on the set of her film "The Wild Party" (1929), starring "It" girl, Clara Bow.

I'd also like to take a moment and comment on Lucille Ball and her performance. Today Ball may be the best known member of the cast and why any modern viewers would choose to see this film. She had an energy that really carried the film. It is the kind of showy performance that captures your attention and steals the film, despite some good work by Maureen O' Hara. Ball wasn't exactly an unknown by the time she appeared in "Dance, Girl, Dance", as some have implied. She got her start as a chorus girl in M-G-M musicals, and credited Eddie Cantor for giving her a break in his delightful comedy, "Roman Scandals" (1933). By the time she appeared in this film she had small roles in a couple of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers musicals (Ball and Rogers were friends), a Three Stooges comedy, a Marx Brothers comedy, and had some success in a series of "Annabel" comedies. Admittedly it was after this role, the better and more memorable ones followed. Here however Ball is playing a street smart, sassy girl, as she had played in her previous roles. I never quite felt that persona suited her. Eve Arden, yes! But Ball seemed too glamorous for these kind of roles.  

"Dance, Girl, Dance" is one of Arzner's best films for the way it explores the female themes her work often did. This would prove to be her final film as director, although she is credited as the director of "First Comes Courage" (1943), it is known she was replaced by the Hungarian director Charles Vidor, after falling ill with pneumonia. Later in life she became a professor at UCLA, where one of her students was Francis Ford Coppola.

Film Review: Wonder Woman

 "Wonder Woman"

  *** 1\2 (out of ****)

Over my past twenty-five years of writing film criticism, I have been a consistent voice stating my belief that films are a window into our society. Art is not created in a vacuum, it is a reaction, a response to the world around it.

It was seven months after the contentious 2016 presidential election and five months after Donald Trump had been sworn into office. His victory brought about what became known as "The Resistance" - political opposition led predominately by women. Democrats blamed the loss of their party's nominee, Hilary Clinton, on sexism, stating the country (sadly) wasn't ready for its first female president.

Then came "Wonder Woman" (2017), a film about a female superhero out to save the world. The film even went as far as to argue, the world didn't deserve her. The film's director, Patty Jenkins - the first woman to direct a major superhero film - had said it wasn't her intention to make a film with political undertones but MANY interpreted the film as a reaction to the 2016 election and Donald Trump. In fact, Hilary Clinton herself praised the film calling it "as inspirational as I'd suspected a movie about a strong, powerful woman in a fight to save the world from international disaster would be."  Jenkins also said she didn't approach "Wonder Woman" focusing on its feminist themes because in her words, "I have always wanted to be last-wave feminism, where you're so feminist, you're not thinking about it at all." So Jenkins may not be the best person to comment on the film's themes and interpretations, oddly enough. 

"Wonder Woman" is a film with three core objectives; be a superhero origin story, a thrilling action movie, and a piece of feminist storytelling, highlighting the superiority of women.

Of the film's three objectives, one and two are always used in service of the third - the superiority of women - which remains the constant running theme throughout the film. Lets begin with how we are introduced to our hero, Diana. She is a young girl (Lilly Aspell) living in a world called Themyscira. It is a land only populated by female, Amazonian warriors. The young girl looks at the women engaging in fierce combat training, led by her aunt, Antiope (Robin Wright). As the young Diana watches them, she begins to mimics their actions. This is an old conventional plot mechanic, generally used to indicate how the interest of a child informs who they become as an adult (i.e. a child who always plays cops because they want to grow up and become one). But watching this sequence in "Wonder Woman" I became struck by the idea of representation. When young girls grow up seeing women display strength and power, they too want to grow up that way.

And so it is with Diana but her mother, Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen) objects. Hippolyta wants Diana to have a normal childhood and not preoccupy herself with becoming a warrior, especially when there is peace and no known threat to their land. Antiope on the other hand sees no harm in training Diana, so she may be at least able to defend herself. Eventually the mother relents after Diana disobeys her mother's orders and secretly trains with her aunt. The two women also whisper of a secret they have kept from Diana about her identity.

That secret will come into focus after Diana (now played by Gal Gadot) notices an unusual object to her eyes, an airplane. Unbeknownst to her it is being flown by Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), a British solider who has gotten lost and accidentally entered her world. He is trying to deliver important papers back to army generals but German planes are following him.

The Amazonian women are caught off-guard and construe the actions of these unknown men as a threat against their land. The women are armed with bows and arrows as the Germans have guns. The bows and arrows are no match for the guns and my impression was this is the first time Diana has seen someone die, as she looks on with an expression of awe and sadness. What I also noticed in this sequence was how Jenkins and cinematographer Matthew Jensen film the Amazonian's actions in slow-motion. It wasn't to glorify violence, which was the critique often aimed at filmmaker Sam Peckinpah, for using the same technique. Instead I felt its purpose was to make every action the Amazonian's make seem meaningful and majestic, to display their skill and superiority. By contrast the German fighters never have the privilege of being filmed in this manner. 

The introduction of Steve presents the opening for the film to delve deeper into one of its themes, how men react to powerful, superior women. Steve may be a brave World War 1 solider, going on death defying missions but in the world of  "Wonder Woman" he is no match for the bravery, strength, and leadership of Diana. She initially saves Steve after his plane crash lands into a body of water. Their first real interaction however is when Diana goes to speak to him, as he is just about to get out of a bath. He stands there naked when she approaches. She asks if he is an average man, he replies he is above average. Yes, it is a penis joke but then Diana becomes intrigued by the presence of Steve's watch. After Steve explains it to her as something that tells him when it is time to eat or work, Diana replies how strange it is for men to allow something so tiny to control them. Yes, it is another penis joke but it is a penis joke plus commentary, based on the belief all men think with their small head. It is the beginning of how "Wonder Woman" elevates women by using action, humor, and symbolism.

Steve explains to Diana that he must return to London to report to the generals what he has discovered within those papers. Diana wants to follow him because she believes it is Ares, the God of War, that is responsible for starting the world war. If she can find him and kill him, the war will be over. Based on Steve's stories, Diana is convinced Ares has taken the form of a man named Ludendorff (Danny Huston). The two make an agreement that if Diana helps Steve return to London, he will lead her to Ares.

Despite Steve's commitment to assist Diana find Ares, his body language and tone suggest something else. We suspect Steve doesn't really believe Diana's story but simply agrees to her terms if it means he can get back to London. In Steve's mind he has a moral obligation to get those papers in the rights hands, and if it means lying or manipulating someone in order to achieve his goal, so be it. But this also sets forth an internal struggle in Steve. Does he or doesn't he believe Diana is from another world or is she just an extremely beautiful woman with some strange ideas? Once the two arrive in London, Jenkins and "Wonder Woman" heighten Steve's conflict with acknowledging Diana's superiority.

The two will arrive to London by way of a small boat. Steve has prepared a spot for Diana to rest. It is a sign of his chivalry but also an indication that he views Diana as an everyday woman. Diana suggest the two lay down together as Steve hasn't given himself a comfortable spot to rest. Diana is unfamiliar with men and has a childlike innocence to her. Steve reluctantly agrees to sleep next to her and manages to incorporate sex into their conversation. Diana confesses that she is aware of matters of the flesh and once read a twelve volume book on the subject. Trying to be flirtatious, Steve jokes it is too bad she didn't bring one of the books with her. Diana says Steve wouldn't like the books because they come to the conclusion, while men are necessary for reproduction, they are not necessary for pleasure. In two back to back sequences, Diana takes three jabs at manhood. We laugh because we understand the implication that a woman can masturbate and use sex toys. Those have long been viewed as symbols of a woman's autonomy. But notice what Steve doesn't do. He doesn't have hurt feelings and say, "oh yeah, well, the same goes for men". Technically that would be true but he doesn't say that because that's not the message "Wonder Woman" wants to leave us with. It wants Diana's joke to be the last word on the subject. 

Once the pair arrives in London, "Wonder Woman" makes some more obvious social commentary on gender issues and how this relates to the dynamic between Steve and Diana. One of the first things Steve wants to do is get Diana out of, what I will call her Wonder Woman costume, and into something more suitable for a woman and for their environment. From this point onward, Steve will often comment / complain that Diana sticks out too much. This fish out of water - think "Pretty Woman" (1990) - sequence of trying to find a wardrobe for Diana is played for laughs on the surface but underneath it is a commentary on gender roles and expectations. Diana is not dressed appropriately. Not for London society and not for how a woman is supposed to look. So Diana tries on various outfits, none of which she finds comfortable because they will restrict her ability to fight. At this point she thinks this will be her uniform on the battlefield, when she fights Ares.

What follows is a scene I personally find to be disgusting in its blatant sexism, overtly demonstrating how men are unwilling to recognize the intelligence of woman. Steve and Diana make their way to a closed door council meeting. Steve wants Diana to stay outside, while he goes to hand deliver the papers. Diana doesn't listen and follows Steve inside. Men stop what they are doing and stare in utter disbelief at the presence of Diana. By the time Steve realizes Diana has followed him and the reaction she has caused, he has a facial expression suggesting he is mortified and tries his best to scoot her out of the room. When someone finally does take a look at the papers, it is in a different language and no one seems to be able to translate it. No one that is except for Diana, who is being asked to leave the room. Steve stands in the background and when asked who this woman is, says she is his secretary. A colonel is the one - note not Steve - to meekly suggest they allow Diana to look at the papers and read it.

Jenkins and the film are creating a deliberate contrast here between the WW 1 time period, presumably circa 1918, and the world of Themyscira. In London there are rooms women are not allowed to enter. Women are not allowed to vote. They most certainly are not soldiers and are not expected to be able to translate foreign languages. Whereas in Diana's world, women are respected. They are leaders and warriors. This ends up putting Steve in an awkward position and made me question, is Steve embarrassed for Diana or embarrassed by her? Steve is a product of his times but after visiting Diana's world and seeing those Amazonian women did it make him see his world differently? Or is he slightly annoyed and uncomfortable by Diana's persistence to interject herself in spaces not allowed for women? Which leads to another question, does Steve believe Diana is not a mere mortal? 

Prior to the council scene, Steve and Diana are attacked by German spies. Steve, forever the protector, wants Diana to stand behind him. One of the men pulls out a gun and shoots at them but Diana blocks the bullet and proceeds to beat up all of the men. Given that he has seen Themyscira and has now witnessed a small sample of Diana's strength you'd think he'd start to view Diana differently but he doesn't. Steve is in a constant state of disbelief, unsure of himself, always wanting to keep Diana out of harm's way despite what he sees she can accomplish with his own eyes. It's not that Steve is a bad person, he is just a product of the times and "conditioned" by society to view women a particular way. His mind probably can't comprehend what he is seeing Diana do and either ignores it or tries to find some way to justify it.

This leads to one of the most pivot scenes, one that comes after Diana has criticized the men of the council for lacking courage and morals - yet another attack on men and their manhood. Diana and Steve have arrived at what is known as No Man's Land, an area of land in-between the British and German trenches. Diana believes something must be done to help but Steve is laser focused on his mission. Not to mention it would be considered suicide to try and go towards the German trenches. Once again however Diana calls out what she deems to be a lack of courage and morals and runs towards the Germans. It is only under her leadership that the soldiers succeed as they follow behind her.

Although the credited screenwriter for "Wonder Woman" was Allan Heinberg, one of the people that worked on the story was Zack Snyder, which makes a lot of sense. Within this period, two of the DC movies Snyder wrote and directed were "Batman v Superman" (2016) and "Justice League" (2017). Both of those movies turned these superheroes into mythical creatures and grappled with ideas of man versus God ("Batman v Superman") and what happens to a world that doesn't appreciate these Gods / Mythical Creatures ("Justice League"). "Wonder Woman" has a bit of both of those concepts. It is said in the film mankind doesn't deserve Wonder Woman because humans are prone to war and violence. In such a world, Diana's moral clarity and courage are not appreciated. 

This is partially seen in the relationship between Steve and Diana. Steve is a soldier with a narrow mindset and a single objective. He may not mean to be dismissive of Diana and her ideas but he comes off that way. He grapples with who she really is and never entertains the idea the person behind the war is Ares. This is delusional fantasy talk to him. Why he keeps Diana around can be attributed to her beauty. Steve is the more "realistic", "world weary" of the two. He understands how the world actually is and all of its complexities. Diana is beautiful but innocent. Her sincerity may be admirable but she simply doesn't understand the ways of the world. That may unfortunately be interpreted by viewers as a woman can't handle complex matters. In the world of the film, that is what I believe Steve kind of, sort of thinks.

By acknowledging that it makes me wonder why did critics interpret this movie as being about equality, rather than female superiority? I believe the reason had to do with something beyond the film and more so with society. It might sound a little simplistic and silly but it's not nice or socially polite to say one gender is superior to the other. Men already think feminism is anti-men and the idea of saying females are superior is a loaded statement, perhaps capable of upsetting people. But I am only responding to what is in the film. I don't bow my head in servitude when I see women on a sidewalk or remind men repeatedly that females are superior. I am reacting to and interpreting what I see on-screen. For if "Wonder Woman" was truly about equality, why didn't Steve stand up for Diana at the council meeting and tell everyone to keep quiet while she speaks? If the film was really about equality, why not have Steve and Diana run side by side through No Man's Land? That would have been a much more powerful image. If the film was about equality, why doesn't Steve ever entertain the idea that Diana may be right about Ares? If I were the screenwriter, I would have added some of that into the story, if I wanted it to be about equality. Instead I see a pattern of elevating women above men.

One thing that I deeply appreciate about "Wonder Woman" is how it allows the character to be a true superhero. Compare "Wonder Woman" to "Supergirl" (1984). "Supergirl", which was one of the first female led superhero movies, treated the idea of a female superhero as a novelty. It accidentally (?) minimized the character by presenting her as a teenager. In one scene she is about to fight the villain but is given flowers by a male character and actually stops to admire the flowers! Hey, what happened to defending Earth? Hello! "Wonder Woman" doesn't engage in these kind of stereotypes. It treats Wonder Woman as a serious character. My one concern however is Diana falls in love with Steve and that serves as a motivating factory for her. My fear is audiences will interpret that as a "weakness" and shrug it off as "girls being girls" or some variation of that. I wish a desire to simply fight for justice would have been enough. But I suppose one could make the same case about Superman and Lois Lane. He loves Lois and she can be interpreted as his "weakness".

Prior to the release of "Wonder Woman", the superhero genre belonged to Marvel with its Spider-Man, X-Men, and Avengers movies. Critics gobbled those movies up. They even appeared on some year-end best lists. But DC struggled for critic and public approval. Snyder's movies were arguably more ambitious than anything Marvel did but were perceived to be too dark and moody. "Wonder Woman" however was a game changer. It opened to generally positive reviews. Former Chicago Tribune critic, Michael Phillips, wrote the film was "formidable and almost entirely successful bid to make the DC Comics movies a little less lame." While Time critic Stephanie Zacharek commented, "Wonder Woman points a way forward toward the possibility of better blockbusters."

To be honest, a lot of that praise was because "Wonder Woman" did things the Marvel way, by use of humor, pop culture references, and action choreography. However director Patty Jenkins proved what a versatile talent she is, going from her feature-length directorial debut, "Monster" (2003), the story of serial killer Aileen Wuornos, to a major Hollywood blockbuster like "Wonder Woman". It's a bit of a stretch but both of these films are about love and humanity. In their own ways they reinterpret our ideas of certain preconceived notions - murderers and superheroes.

We also have to give credit to Gal Gadot. Neither she nor Jenkins go down the campy route, a la "Supergirl". Gadot provides the character with a sense of humanity, innocence, strength, and curiosity. This is a fully functional character that just so happens to walk around with lasso that forces people to tell the truth and wears a skimpy skirt. In the world of superhero performances, Gadot's is one of my personal favorites.

Which is a remarkable statement coming from me. Time and time again I have written that I am the wrong audience for these kind of movies. I don't like the superhero genre but "Wonder Woman" feels different to me. It is sharper and equally or more aware than some of the better movies of this genre. It might mean more if I was a fan of the genre but "Wonder Woman" was one of the best superhero movies of the past fifteen years.

"Wonder Woman" is a beautiful looking film with a beautiful message on the superiority of females. It placed Jenkins as one of the more exciting filmmakers working today and gave Gadot an opportunity to deliver a real performance. Unfortunately, I wasn't as impressed with the sequel, "Wonder Woman 1984" (2020) but this original film was a true standout of the genre.

Film Review: Thirteen

  "Thirteen"

 **** (out of ****)

A young girl stares directly into the camera, holding the side of her face, as if she's discovering a new land. She declares she can't feel anything and wants someone to hit her. A hand from off camera smacks her. Eventually both individuals are revealed to us as two teenage girls. They start taking turns slapping and punching each other, while hysterically laughing.

This unsettling opening sequence immediately establishes "Thirteen" (2003) will be a film about abuse and a plea for help, as the lead character looks into the camera at us. We are the ones the girl is speaking to and we must witness her downward spiral. 

The troubled teens are Tracy (Evan Rachel Wood) and Evie (Nikki Reed). On it's surface it would appear to be a tale of an innocent girl (Tracy) who gets mixed-up with the wrong crowd and falls under the harmful influence of a popular bad girl (Evie).

But "Thirteen" isn't a simple tale and first time director Catherine Hardwicke recognizes the complexity of the situation. There are no "good" or "bad" characters. Instead there are individuals who are products of their environments.

The scene is set by establishing Tracy is a sweet, innocent kid. She even puts her hair up in pigtails, walks the family dog, and has a friendly relationship with her mom, Mel (Holly  Hunter). Unlike some of the other girls at Tracy's school, she doesn't wear revealing clothes. This makes Tracy and her friends a complete contrast to Evie and her friends, who are starting to get all of the boys' attention.

Little seeds however are being planted. Mel, who works from home as a hairdresser, appears to be a generous, caring mom but we learn she had an addiction problem in her past. Tracy writes poems, which she openly shares with her mom, that are deep and about emotional pain. You don't create art about pain unless you are feeling something inside. What was the mother-child relationship like when Mel was an addict? We further find out mom and dad are divorced. That affects children too. It all subtly begins to paint a picture. How much emphasis the viewer is supposed to give all of this, isn't quite clear yet at this point. The most alarming discovery though is that Tracy has a history of self-mutilation. Keep in mind this is all pre-Evie.

Evie on the other hand, outwardly seems to be the typical "bad girl". "Thirteen" and Hardwicke could have easily left it at that. Instead we learn a bit about Evie's home life. The make-up, the clothing, the piercings, it is a reflection of an unhealthy environment that Evie lives in. She says her mother passed away and she currently lives with a cousin, Brooke (Deborah Kara Unger). Brooke is not portrayed as "mother material". She doesn't check in on Evie's whereabouts, she doesn't keep a nice home, she day drinks beer, and allows Evie to do so as well. It's not a mother / daughter or adult / child relationship as much as it is a roommate situation.

A lot of this deals exclusively with the home but there are outside pressures as well. Hardwicke doesn't dwell on it but there is one sequence in which its significance doesn't escape us. Tracy is riding a bus and we see billboards advertising beauty products with sexy images. It creates an external ideal women and young girls must live up to and strive to achieve.

That ideal leads to another subtle touch Hardwicke gives the film. Young women first becoming aware of the male gaze. Evie relishes the attention boys give her. The beauty products and billboards are examples of a male standard of beauty. It's not a declarative theme in "Thirteen" but its there and it motivates these young girls - subconsciously or not - to behave the way they do. We see it in Evie and even in Brooke, who gets plastic surgery done. It is a life long cycle women must wrestle with. 

This speaks to one of the strengths of "Thirteen". It has an intimate, lived in knowledge about women and teenagers. It is the result of not only having a film directed by a woman but a script co-written by Hardwicke and co-star Nikki Reed. Hardwicke dated Reed's father for a time and after that relationship ended, Hardwicke and Reed remained in contact. It wouldn't be too far of a stretch to believe the both of them brought personal details to this story. 

The personal knowledge and perspective that Hardwicke and Reed bring to this story helps explain why "Thirteen" doesn't pull punches and is able to widen the scope of this dilemma beyond easy finger pointing. A lot of deliberate care was given to these characters, especially Mel. Yes, Mel is seems to be an attentive mother but where was she when her daughter started to spiral downward? She witnesses the change in behavior. She suspects her daughter may be shoplifting. She may even be aware Evie is manipulating her with stories of abuse back home but she doesn't firmly take charge of the situation. If "Thirteen" teaches us anything it is that children need guidance. They know when an adult or parent is absent. At her lowest point, Tracy directly confronts her mother asking, where were you? Mom's answer honestly, isn't a great defense but a relatable one.

It adds another layer to "Thirteen" that should prevent viewers from too quickly passing judgement on Brooke and Mel and dividing them into "good" and "bad" as well. Brooke is absent and appears to be in no position to take care of a child but at one point Mel wanted her ex-husband to take Tracy because she couldn't handle raising her alone. Yes, Brooke allows Evie to drink beer but Mel allows her son to smoke pot in the house. 

It is because of these nuanced touches many critics overlooked signs and boxed the film into an easy interpretation. In Roger Ebert's Chicago Sun-Times review, he described "Thirteen" as  "This is a frightening story of how a nice girl falls under the influence of a wild girl and barely escapes big, big, big trouble". He was also fascinated by the background story between Hardwicke and Reed. Michael Wilmington, at the Chicago Tribune, did a slightly better job capturing the essence of the film but never quite spelled it out and generalized it as a story about teenage life, writing the film is a "first rate movie about relationships of modern parents and kids, and the sometimes fragile and delusional bridges that connect their worlds." But "Thirteen" isn't just about teenagers, it's about the unique experience of young girls becoming teenagers and navigating into the world of womanhood with the weight of society and peer pressure on their shoulders. 

What may have distracted critics and viewers from seeing the broader picture was the gritty style "Thirteen" was filmed in. The film is a clash between docu-drama and MTV music video - back in the days when MTV showed music videos. It is a jittery, in-your-face style that is sometimes accentuated by rapid edits and dizzying camera techniques, such as when Hardwicke and cinematographer Elliot Davis have the camera sway back and forth to signify the instability of the characters. It would be easy enough to dismiss the film as little more than "shock value" because of this aesthetic and the film's content. A deeper reading and understanding of the film however shows us how the visuals match the subject matter.

By the end of "Thirteen" we see a major shift in the characters, causing us to flip everything we know about them. "Bad" characters become "good" and "good" characters get a smack of reality and must confront the disturbing future that may potentially await them. It is all a performance? A moment of clarity? In our hearts we want to believe it is a wake-up call, after spending so much time with these characters but the film's final image suggests a more harsh reality to me. Tracy is at a playground violently spinning on a roundabout. Her childhood has become chaotic. Her decisions today may anticipate the struggles of tomorrow, in many ways like her mother. She won't be a "bad" person but a woman who needs to take life one day at a time, fully aware she can slip into old habits at any given moment.

No praise of the film cannot mention the performances given by the cast. When "Thirteen" was released Wood was sixteen years old and Reed was fifteen. Their acting is remarkable. It's true that their age has something to do with that praise but that's because these are brave performances that asks an actress to go through a sweeping range of emotions in an extremely vulnerable and mature way that quite frankly several older actresses may not have been able to in such a convincing manner. These were star making performances. Holly Hunter does amazing work as well creating a sympathetic character despite some of her flaws. We can feel her heartache and desperation in many scenes. Hunter received the film's sole Academy Award nomination for best supporting actress. If it was up to me however, all three performances would have gotten nominated. Although Wood did receive a best actress Golden Globe nomination.

Critics didn't know what to expect from Hardwicke when "Thirteen" was released. As previously mentioned, this was her directorial debut after years of working as a production designer on a range of films including "Laurel Canyon" (2002) - her last film in this role before directing - "Vanilla Sky" (2001), and the infamous "Tank Girl" (1995). Hardwicke would continue to explore themes present in "Thirteen" in her following films such as "Lords of Dogtown" (2005) and the megahit "Twilight" (2008). For me however "Thirteen" has remained her best film and was one of the most impressive modern directorial debuts I have seen. When the film was released in 2003, I placed it on my year-end best list. It has remained with me ever since.

Film Review: Family Plot - 50th Anniversary

  "Family Plot"

 *** 1\2 (out of ****)

The film begins with a séance. This isn't any kind of séance. The scene isn't played for suspense or chills. This is a wild, comically exaggerated sequence. The psychic, a woman named Blanche (Barbara Harris) is in contact with the dead. Blanche changes her voice, signifying different people speaking through her, as her customer, an elderly wealthy woman (Cathleen Nesbitt) attentively listens on. The elderly woman speaks aloud, trying to connect the dots with what Blanche is saying. By doing so, she keeps giving Blanche just enough information to string the old lady along. Soon there's no doubt, we are witnessing a con in action.

That's how  Alfred Hitchcock opens "Family Plot" (1976), a film that is not only celebrating its 50th anniversary this year but also marked the end of the Master of Suspense's career.

I've chosen to emphasize this sequence because it not only sets the tone for the rest of the film but I think Hitchcock is having a little fun with his audience. To me, "Family Plot" is a self-aware film that juggles suspense and light-hearted comedic aspects effortlessly. This opening sequence establishes that the rest of the film will be about deception and con-artists. It mirrors the final image of the film perfectly,  humorously questioning what is real and what isn't? After all directors have been referred to as con-artists. What is it that great filmmakers do? They manipulate our emotions via lighting, cinematography, music...etc. Those are the tricks of the trade. Is Hitchcock poking at himself through the Blanche character? On some level, I think so.

It is largely because of the light-hearted, self-aware nature of "Family Plot", that it has generally been regarded by movie fans and critics as a "lesser" Hitchcock film. In fact a majority of Hitchcock's later works - "Torn Curtain" (1966), "Topaz" (1969), and "Marnie" (1964) -  were all seen as "second rate" at their time of release. "Family Plot" however has remained my favorite among the films the old Master released during this time. It is a minority opinion but a space I share with critics Jonathan Rosenbaum and Dave Kehr, who have defended the film. If anything stood out to critics during this time it would have been the film Hitchcock made prior to this one, "Frenzy" (1972). Many saw that as a return to form for Hitchcock.

What Hitchcock brings to "Family Plot" that makes it similar to his other films is the way he blends suspense and comedy. My favorite sequence in the entire film, and one I think displays this particular Hitchcock talent, involves Blanche and her boyfriend, George (Bruce Dern). They are driving on a narrow winding road. Their vehicle has been tampered with. The brakes no longer work, causing the vehicle to speed along. George makes sharp turns to avoid on coming traffic. Blanche is in hysterics, yelling and grabbing George for protection. He pleads with her to stop grabbing him. Hitchcock continuously switches between George and Blanche's antics to the road, putting us in the driver's seat. We suspect there will be a crash but what will cause it? Another car or Blanche? Hitchcock plays the audience beautifully by simultaneously building tension and defusing it.

Blanche and George have arrived at this moment when the elderly lady from the séance revealed she is looking for her long lost nephew. Years ago the lady had advised her sister to give up the child, since she was not married. With death approaching at the old lady's door, she wants to make amends and reconnect with her nephew in order to leave the family fortune to him. Given Blanche's "psychic ability", the lady will pay her handsomely if she can find the nephew. And so George, an actor who pays the bills by driving a cab, tries to hunt him down.

What is most striking about this set-up is Blanche and George never try to pass off George as the nephew and collect a double payday - the "finder's fee" and the eventual inheritance. That move would have completely altered the tone of the film and could have leaned heavily into flat-out comedy. Hitchcock and his screenwriter, Ernest Lehman - who is adapting Victor Canning's novel The Rainbird Pattern - have a motive for not going down this path. It's an oxymoron but Blanche and George are honest crooks. They are a small time racket compared to our other deceitful couple, Fran (Karen Black) and Arthur (William Devane). These two kidnap high profile individuals and ask for large ransoms. Arthur also makes a nice living running his own jewelry store. This contrast helps establish Blanche and George as our heroes and Fran and Arthur as the villains. And just so that idea is cemented in our heads, Hitchcock makes the obvious symbolic gesture of white representing good and black representing evil. The name Blanche means white in French and she even drives a white car. Fran and Arthur on the other hand are often seen wearing black. It's a bit simplistic but it gets the job done.

If "Family Plot" belongs to any film lineage, it wouldn't be the work of Hitchcock. I'd be more willing to compare it to the work of Ernst Lubitsch and films like "Trouble in Paradise" (1932) or Preston Sturges' "The Lady Eve" (1941). "Plot" is the story of two couples that engage in fraud and like those older movies speak in witty banter with dialogue peppered with double entendres. In the old days, Blanche would have been played by Carole Lombard and the sophisticated criminal / kidnapper Arthur would have been played by Herbert Marshall. Both of whom coincidentally did appear in a Hitchcock movie.  

This explains why audiences never warmed up to the film. Hitchcock represented suspense, thrilling sequences, voyeurism, and psychological tension. "Family Plot" is a melody in a different key. Audiences may have felt betrayed by Hitchcock in 1976 for not living up to his end of the bargain. Hitchcock was once quoted as saying, "I'm in competition with myself". Not only are the familiar themes missing, so too are the archetype characters - the wrongly accused everyman and the icy blonde.

Even here however, Hitchcock seems to be teasing us, twisting our expectations. The first time we see the Fran character she is wearing a black trench coat, dark glasses, and a black hat which reveals her blonde hair. Is she the traumatized, vulnerable blonde that occupied Hitchcock's films? Not so fast. The blonde hair is a wig. It lends itself to the deception theme of the film and deceives our expectations of a Hitchcock film.

Of course, Hitchcock isn't outright abandoning his usual archetype characters, he is merely presenting a variation on them. So while on the surface we have the exact opposite of the icy blonde in Barbara Harris' performance - she conceals none of her emotions with an icy exterior - she nevertheless performs the same function as most women in one of Hitchcock's films. She is an intelligent woman and an active participant in the plot, not a victim of it. Whereas Karen Black's character is a bit more of a mystery to the viewer. Together they combine all of the elements of the traditional Hitchcock women.

The same can be said of the men. Bruce Dern lacks the suave demeanor of Cary Grant but Dern is an everyman of a different era. He's a little rough around the edges, speaks in a more vulgar manner and is not exactly charming. Many of these characteristics belong to William Devane's character. But like all Hitchcock heroes, Dern is presented with a mystery he must solve and does so with his intelligence. 

This deviation of our character expectations may lead some to find them unconvincing or inappropriate for a Hitchcock movie. These characters don't belong in "Vertigo" (1958), that I grant you but Barbara Harris, Bruce Dern and the rest of the cast all do wonderful work by giving performances that match the tone of the material. I love a little touch Dern adds to the character of smoking a pipe. Throughout the film Dern has the pipe when snooping around. One critic didn't like this prop and dismissed it. I can't categorically confirm this but I thought Dern smokes the pipe because it is a cliché that detectives smoke them (a la Sherlock Holmes). And by giving the pipe that justification, I laugh when I see it. 

By 1976 Alfred Hitchcock had directed 56 feature-length films. At this point in his career the filmmaker had pretty much said all there was to be said on his favorite themes. He had earned the right to not only make a lark but also kid himself and the audience. In this sense, "Family Plot" feels more like a final film than "Frenzy" did, as some critics would have preferred. "Plot" shows Hitchcock playing with his own mythology, pulling the curtain on his legendary persona. And how do you end a self-referential film? With a wink of course! It's that knowing gesture, given by Blanche, that signals Hitchcock had been in on the gag the entire time. 

There was a period of time when Alfred Hitchcock was arguably one of the most famous filmmakers alive. He had gained prominence in  America during an era when directors weren't largely given credit or considered box-office names. It was still the time of the Hollywood studio system, where actors and actresses were the recognizable figures. In some cases even producers were known. For example, producer David O. Selznick was as much a creative force behind Hitchcock's first American film, "Rebecca" (1940) as the director was. And yet Hitchcock became a well known national figure.

The influence Hitchcock had on future filmmakers cannot be overstated. In particular two international filmmakers - Italy's Dario Argento and France's Claude Chabrol. Each was considered his country's version of Hitchcock. Because of filmmakers like Argento and Chabrol, and with the end of the production code, by the 1970s the thriller genre had begun to change, causing Hitchcock's brand of psychological thrillers to become considered old-fashion. Giallo and Argento's films in particular began to push the envelope on screen violence. Chabrol's films were more explicitly social and moral critiques, which was absent in Hitchcock's films. Those films focused more on psychological guilt. The old Master couldn't compete with these filmmakers and the new style the thriller was exploring. This wasn't because Hitchcock lacked talent but because this wasn't a reflection of his sensibilities as a filmmaker. Within this new environment all Hitchcock could do was take aim at himself and be playful. To that extent "Family Plot" works well and still shows the Master had some tricks left up his sleeve. What is interesting is Argento and Chabrol would also make self-referential films later in their careers. Two examples would be Argento's "Tenebrae" (1982) and Chabrol's "The Swindle" (1997). 

These comparisons would come up in critics' reviews, and unfortunately usually not to Hitchcock's advantage. Lets take Chicago Tribune movie critic Gene Siskel's "Family Plot" review as an example. He writes, "compare Hitchcock's "Family Plot" to Chabrol's recent "Just Before Nightfall", and the old master's work is revealed as feeble." Siskel goes on to state of Hitchcock, "It's disappointing then, to see him fill a psychological thriller - the film form he perfected - with insignificant, unreal characters". The review even criticizes the car sequence I described as "poorly edited" though a detailed explanation as to why that is, is not provided. The deepest insight Siskel attempts is "It's tempting to point out Hitchcock's use of mechanical doors as symbols of the mechanistic laws of nature, but to indulge in that sort of thing is only to gild Hitchcock's lilliputian achievement."

Gene Siskel was hardly the only critic to disapprove of Hitchcock's film. Writing for Film Comment, the critic Jonathan Rosenbaum called out the reaction his fellow critics were greeting the film with. "To judge from a lot of local remarks," he says "this gem is apparently one of the Master's lightweights". Rosenbaum further explains "Three separate friends have complained that the sequence with Barbara Harris and Bruce Dern in the brakeless car is "embarrassing": I'm not sure whether this means corny or old-fashion or something else".

While I admit "Family Plot" is not as influential as "Psycho" (1960) or "Vertigo", in some small way I believe "Plot" did have an impact on film culture. Thrillers and horror films in the following decade did lean into comedy and self-referential humor. Brian De Palma is an example of an American filmmaker that was influenced by Hitchcock, as seen in such films as "Sisters" (1973) and "Obsession" (1976). But look at De Palma's "Body Double" (1984) and notice how the tone is more playful, poking fun not only at the thriller genre but Hollywood itself. "Family Plot" alone didn't cause this change but it was one ingredient in the "cultural stew" bringing about this shift in the genre. Does it say anything that the following year Mel Brooks would release his spoof "High Anxiety" (1977)?

Some noticed the shift and got the joke, understanding what Hitchcock and "Family Plot" were up to. The critic Penelope Gilliat - she was the other movie critic at the New Yorker - described the film as "one of the saltiest and most endearing he has ever directed." The most glowing review of the film that I've ever read was written by Chicago Reader critic Dave Kehr. Kehr would concede "Plot" was "second-rate" Hitchcock but actually penned the following sentences, "But second-rate Hitchcock is still about ten times more interesting than first-rate Altman, Coppola, or Scorsese. There are things in Family Plot that we haven't seen in an American film in a long time; things like care, precision, and detail." You won't be surprised to know Kehr would go on to declare "Family Plot" as the best film of 1976! Other critics that also placed it on their year-end best lists included Andrew Sarris and Rosenbaum.

What this proves is that even a "slight" Hitchcock film still has a lot to say about the filmmaker, Hollywood, and the culture around it. It can be argued that "Family Plot" was a reflection of the changing times.

"Family Plot" isn't a perfect film but it is one of Hitchcock's stronger films from the era. Because it played around with audience's expectations, its reputation is mixed, but Hitchcock never intended for this film to be approached in the same manner as his other films. I want to believe after fifty years, viewers may recognize what Hitchcock's intentions were but sadly, the internet is full of modern comments from people calling it a "lesser" film. If you can meet "Family Plot" at its level, its a pretty fun ride! 

Film Review: Blue Velvet - 40th Anniversary

 "Blue Velvet"

  **** (out of ****)

It's a strange world says one of the characters in David Lynch's "Blue Velvet" (1986). That is an understatement, especially in the cinematic universe of the acclaimed filmmaker.

Lynch died last year in January at the age of 78 and his "Blue Velvet" is celebrating its 40th anniversary this year. I wanted to take this opportunity to combine both of these occasions and honor Lynch and this particular film. 

The first time I saw a David Lynch film was back in 2001 with the release of "Mulholland Dr.". I vividly remember several details of the event. I was eighteen years old and was very curious to see the film after reading a few good reviews. Chicago Sun-Times critic Roger Ebert even wrote a glowing review for the film, which was unusual because with the exception of "The Straight Story" (1999), Ebert had not been a fan of Lynch's work. To give my story some local flavor, a friend and I took the number eleven Lincoln bus and went to the old Biograph Theater (the bus doesn't run that far anymore and the theater is now called the Victory Gardens Biograph Theater) and caught a matinee. 

I didn't have expectations for what I was about to see because I genuinely didn't know what to expect. Within minutes of "Mulholland Dr." two simultaneous thoughts started swimming in my head - "what the heck is this film?" and "Gosh, how is this going to end?" The acting and dialogue seemed almost laughable to me. I didn't know who Naomi Watts or Laura Harring were at the time. I immediately got the impression they were a couple of amateurs but thought to myself, this Watts person might be able to get someplace with more experience (I'm embarrassed to write that now. She has since become one of my favorite actresses). Practically everything about the movie came off as second rate to me. Was this a put on or were these people acting their best? I walked out of the theater absolutely fascinated by what I had seen and took the critical stance that filmmaker David Lynch was a cross between John Waters and Federico Fellini. I went on to declare "Mulholland Dr." as one of the best films of the year and later, when I started writing professionally, included it in my list as one of the best films of the decade.

With my newfound enthusiasm for Lynch, I wanted to continue my high so the next film I watched was "Blue Velvet". I had known the film by name only, having walked passed it at various movie rental stores but never had much of an interest to rent it. Now you couldn't stop me from picking it up. In it's own way "Mulholland Dr." prepared me for "Blue Velvet". I quickly recognized the "second rate" theatrics I saw in "Drive" were not exclusive to that film. It was in fact the Lynch style. I instantly detected those elements in "Velvet". I further noticed a Lynch theme, the conflict between beauty and the grotesque. In "Drive" it was Hollywood clashing with a nightmarish murder story and in "Velvet" it was a picture perfect image of suburbia colliding against an ugly underground dealing with kidnapping and murder. Lynch visually captured this at the beginning of "Blue Velvet" when we see nicely planted flowers as the camera zooms in going into the dirt, literally "underground". Lynch wants to break away from the veneer of prettiness.

As I watched "Velvet" again, for the umpteenth time, in preparation for this review, I remembered the ambiguity of the film's setting. Yes, it's set in Small Town U.S.A. but what year are we in? Lynch deliberately doesn't emphasize a time period. "Blue Velvet" blurs a 1950s sensibility opposite the modernness of the 1980s. While other critics have acknowledged this contrast they explain it as Lynch's way of creating a "timeless" story. That's not a bad interpretation but I think it goes deeper than that. Lynch, I believe, is making a social commentary not just on suburbia but finds a link between the 1950s and the 1980s. Beneath each decade's surface level optimism and congenial leaders there lies a violent society - segregation in the '50s and crime in the inner cities in the '80s and the crack epidemic. "Blue Velvet" may not seem political to an unsuspecting viewer but it is dealing with issues topical in Reagan's  America. 

It's an interpretation that has the benefit of hindsight and one that has been gaining traction over the years in retrospective viewings thanks to writers like Jenna Johnson. She wrote on the website Medium in 2019 - "Blue Velvet was made in a complex moment in American cultural history. The film was released in 1986, during Ronald Reagan's second term in office and at the beginning of the "culture war", a period of debate in which the conservative right, fueled by Reagan's rhetoric, lashed out against increasing "cultural representation within art, media, and education" (Grainge, et al, 491). Though it may seem a timeless tale, Blue Velvet cannot be fully understood apart from this context." And Christopher Sharrett on the website Film International noticed similar connections between Reagan and the 1950s.

While I feel the duality between the 1950s and '80s and their connection between surface optimism and underground violence is the dominate theme of the film, another idea came into my head that wasn't written about by other critics in 1986. Why is the film titled "Blue Velvet"? A person giving a surface reading of the film might respond with, because it is a song one of the characters sings in the movie. Another answer could be, it is an example of the '50s / '80s comparison since the song was written in 1951, and a hit for Tony Bennett that same year. But I have a more radical suggestion. Pablo Picasso is arguably the most famous artist associated with the color blue due to his paintings in the early 1900s known as his "Blue Period". These melancholy paintings were the result of a friend's suicide, which led Picasso to fall into a depression. The paintings are known for their social commentary, often reflecting poverty, loneliness, and sorrow. They also focused on marginalized figures in society. The color scheme of the paintings were defined by a monochromatic palette, using deep blues and blue-greens.

It's not an apples to apples comparison but Lynch's film uses a blue palette, deals with marginalized characters, and makes a social commentary. Both Picasso's "Blue Period" and Lynch's "Blue Velvet" were points of maturity for each artists. The two came into their own in terms of artistic expression, moving beyond technical craft. "Blue Velvet" was debatably Lynch's greatest achievement, at that point in his career. He was coming off of the box-office and critical failure, "Dune" (1984) and had previously directed "Eraserhead" (1977) and "The Elephant Man" (1980). Lastly, let us also not forget, besides being a filmmaker, Lynch was an artist and a fan of the Surrealist movement. 

Another unusual thought popped into my head. This one hasn't been written about much either. Watching "Blue Velvet" I started to pay attention to the importance of stairs. I've come to the conclusion that Lynch's films are meant to be symbolically interpreted. Sure, you can "turn your brain off" and watch a Lynch film for the sheer entertainment value of it, but Lynch was a devilishly smart and creative filmmaker. Meaning is hidden in his films. The real joy, for me anyway, is to interpret the symbolism.  And one big reoccurring image is stairs. Stairs can represent several things in a film - a spiritual journey, obstacles, achievement - Lynch uses stairs at times to suggest those things but I think he primarily uses it to show personal growth and transition.

The first time Lynch emphasizes stairs is when the main character, Jeffrey (Kyle MacLachlan) is walking out of his bedroom. No lights are on and the camera looks up at him. Jeffrey slowly walks down the stairs and into the light of the living room, where his mother and a friend are watching television. On the television is a suspenseful movie. We see a man gingerly walking up stairs. Lynch creates a contrast in motion, which I found interesting. At this point in the film, Jeffrey is about to embark on a dangerous journey and discover much about this quiet community. He literally goes from darkness to light. Later we see stairs when Jeffrey has to walk up them to get to the apartment of a woman named Dorothy (Isabella Rossellini). In this case the stairs become a symbol of danger, just as they were in the image on the television.

And the appearance of television is used to make a deliberate point in the film. Lynch twice shows us the mother character watching it. Each time it is a suspenseful / gangster film. To me this suggest, these characters view violence as a thing of fiction. It is something you find in the movies but not in the town where these characters live. Lynch could have had the mother character watch anything but he chose something violent. He is setting the viewer up for what they can expect as well.

For my own part, my reaction to the violent nature of the film surprised me. I wasn't put off by it. I say it surprised me because only a couple of years ago, when reviewing Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" (1994), for its 30th anniversary, I wrote the violence in that film bothered me on an emotional level and I didn't find the movie to be the classic others have proclaimed it. Its "charms" have worn off on me. A large reason for why that is, is because I found no great meaning in Tarantino's use of violence, other than a message on the random, chaotic structure of life. In "Blue Velvet" on the other hand, I saw more purpose and commentary into Lynch's dark world. After forty years the film has lost none of its power within those images. They are disturbing and shocking and yet essential because they go deeper than what is on the surface and reveal something about ourselves.

Funny enough, when "Blue Velvet" was initially released other critics didn't spend much time on the violence. The primary focus in their reviews was the kink / erotic factor of the film. The great New York Times critic, Janet Maslin wrote in her review, "Mr. Lynch had already established his beachhead inside the realm of the bizarre, but his latest venture takes him a lot further. Kinkiness is its salient quality." If I had to describe Pauline Kael's New Yorker review, I'd say she describes the film's plot, beat by beat, and interprets everything through an erotic lens. She states, early in her review, "Lynch doesn't censor his sexual fantasies, and the film's hypercharged erotic atmosphere makes it something of a trance-out". Interestingly, neither woman had much to say on the treatment of the female characters, in particular Isabella Rossellini. In the Village Voice critic J. Hoberman concluded, "the heart of the film is a twenty-minute sex scene replete with voyeurism, rape, sadomasochism, implied castration, all manner of verbal and physical abuse, elaborate fetishism, and a ritualized kinkiness for which there is no name." None of these critics condemned the violence. Kael was the deepest of the three, which unfortunately isn't saying much, in trying to psychoanalyze how it all affects Jeffrey. 

The one mainstream critic that really stood out for his dislike of the film was Chicago Sun-Times critic Roger Ebert. In a famous episode on  the movie review program with Chicago Tribune critic Gene Siskel, the two got into a heated debate. The show didn't provide Ebert with the best outlet to express his dissatisfaction with the film, instead coming off as overprotective of Isabella Rossellini. In his print review Ebert was better able to articulate his objections. Ebert felt the film had "two levels of reality". One was a story of sexual bondage and the other comprised of 1950s sitcom characters. These two "realities", Ebert believed, pulled the film apart. His remarks however on the treatment of Rossellini's character are strong and speak to a broader problem in cinema on how women are portrayed. They are asked to make themselves vulnerable in films that don't deserve it. More could have been done with Rossellini's character to provide her with a better payoff. It is one ugly aspect of "Blue Velvet"  that I don't want to go too far out of my way to defend. It may explain why other critics didn't broach this delicate topic in their reviews.

One character that is treated better and given an arc is Jeffrey. In its own bizarre way, "Blue Velvet" is a kind of coming of age story; a young man loses his innocence as he begins to see the darker side of the world. Most revealing is Jeffrey shows tendencies of embracing that darker side as does Dorothy. If we give Jeffrey the benefit of the doubt, he begins his journey in earnest, wanting to help and protect Dorothy from a deranged kinky gangster named Frank (Dennis Hopper), who has kidnapped Dorothy's husband and son. But soon, in a way, Jeffrey takes advantage of Dorothy and the two begin sleeping together. 

Lets take for example a scene between Jeffrey and Dorothy. They are sleeping together when Dorothy asks Jeffrey to be a bad boy and hit her. The act is meant to mimic the behavior of Frank, who we see beat Dorothy. In the heat of the moment, Jeffrey reacts with a shocked expression but we can tell there is an immediate temptation to submit to her request. When Jeffrey finally does, Lynch breaks away to a flickering flame to symbolize the passion and destruction within Jeffrey.

It's not too far of a stretch to point out the women in Lynch's film also represent the duality we see onscreen- the quaint suburban setting and the unsettling underground world. Dorothy is linked to the gangsters and eroticism whereas Sandy (Laura Dern) is the cute 1950s teenager you'd expect to find in an episode of "Leave it to Beaver". Is it a coincidence the character is named Sandy, which could be taken as a reference to actress Sandy Dennis, a popular teen actress from the era. Jeffrey has an attraction to both women.

Sandy and Jeffrey, at first, appear to symbolize the same thing - youthful innocence - but notice that Lynch keeps Sandy innocent. She is the daughter of a detective investigating a case involving Frank and Dorothy. She will help Jeffrey but only up to a point while always warning him he is in over his head. She doesn't share Jeffrey's temptation to the darkside. At one point she evens wonders is Jeffrey a detective himself or a pervert?

It is a question that I think purposely makes us think of Hitchcock and the film "Rear Window" (1954) in particular. In that film Jimmy Stewart is a photographer with a broken leg who spies on his neighbors living in an apartment complex across from him. He may or may not have witnessed a murder. "Window" touched on a theme often found in Hitchcock films, voyeurism. There is a scene in "Blue Velvet" which visually recalls Hitchcock when Jeffrey is hiding in Dorothy's closet and watches her with Frank. We see Jeffrey stand in the dark with the only light coming from the the slits of the door. It illuminates Jeffrey's eyes. It's the exact kind of image that would have made Hitchcock proud.

Like "Rear Window", Lynch is careful however not to have the audience anticipate too much ahead of the lead character. The audience learns information as Jeffrey does. We are there every step of the way, going down this rabbit hole into a wild, violent, and sexually depraved world. And like a Hitchcock film, Lynch blends suspense with dark humor, although unlike other critics, I don't actually consider "Blue Velvet" a comedy, as for example Pauline Kael did. This isn't a side-splittingly funny film. It has moments of satire but I personally don't laugh when I watch this film.

When David Lynch died the fantastic critic Stephanie Zacharek, over at Time, wrote a special tribute for the filmmaker, observing the cultural impact the release of  "Velvet" had by writing, "it's hard to convey how the release of Blue Velvet seemed to blow a hole in the world.". "Velvet" became a hugely influential film for future filmmakers such as Darren Aronofsky and Tarantino. For his efforts Lynch received his second Academy Award nomination for best director. His first was for "The Elephant Man". Lynch would go on to receive a third and final director nomination for "Mulholland Dr.". The film would go on to win various film critic association awards as well as two Golden Globe nominations.

In a way my first impression of Lynch wasn't wrong - a cross between John Waters and Federico Fellini - it just wasn't a way most people would word it. If you ever studied film or have done deep research, there is a school of thought that says the films of Waters are social satires and critiques. The best examples of this would be his more mainstream films - "Cry Baby" (1990) and "Serial Mom" (1994). Fellini's films on the other hand are known for surreal non-linear plots that blurred fantasy and reality. They were autobiographical and presented caricature views of society. All of that is present in the works of Lynch and "Blue Velvet".

The world of cinema lost one of its great visionaries when Lynch died. I will forever cherish the memories of my first encounters with various Lynch films and will fondly recall the seemingly endless debates in college as my friends and I tried the interpret his work. That was the beauty of Lynch's films. They were unsolvable puzzles that required multiple viewings. I could review this film in five years from now and focus on an entirely different set of ideas and themes. To me that's the work of a great filmmaker and a great film, one that consistently challenges us and opens our minds, avoiding easy answers.

Film Review: Wanda

  "Wanda" 

  **** (out of ****)

Barbara Loden's "Wanda" (1971) is a sadly forgotten but fascinating portrait of  America, capturing a country at a crossroads by embodying the spirit of the counterculture movement; while also subtly suggesting elements of second-wave feminism.

"Wanda" addresses themes of alienation, class conflict and feminism in such a way that the themes weave together effortlessly. 

The film was Loden's first and only feature-length film, following in the tradition of poetic realism (stylized portrayals of working class life) and Italian neorealism (authentic representations of everyday life). While those movements may seem contradictory their emphasis was to depict real life, stripped of the superficiality of American Hollywood cinema. Some have even compared it to the documentary style movement known as cinema verite.

Released at the beginning of the 1970s, which saw the emergence of a new generation of filmmakers, "Wanda" could be seen as an extension of films like "Easy Rider" (1969), which was emblematic of  "New Hollywood". While both films express the disillusionment of the younger generation, "Wanda" is the more devastating film. Even though "Easy Rider" was an indie film, it was a slick, well produced product with "loud" and iconic moments - the Born to Be Wild sequence - "Wanda" by comparison isn't as flashy. It's quiet. And that quietness gives it more of a punch.  

In modern times however I believe many retroactively interpret the film solely as "feminist", minimalizing the class consciousness by doing so. They also narrow the scope of the alienation and define it as the result of a patriarchal society which undervalues women. This was the opinion of several critics, for example Molly Haskell, who wrote in her seminal book on feminist film theory, From Reverence to Rape, describing female characters in movies like "Wanda" as women "torn between the negative and positive of the feminist consciousness - rage at the old order, hope for the new - have arrived, anesthetized, at an emotional and cultural "stasis", a death."

These interpretations prioritize the fact that the film was directed by a woman and that within itself  was enough for them to claim it as feminist. In this analysis  "Wanda" belongs in a tradition of other female directors such as Chantal Akerman and Agnes Varda. It's not necessarily wrong but limiting and omits too much in order to confine it to a specific political or social agenda - i.e. feminism. I believe its reach is broader in its appeal. "Wanda" doesn't belong in one camp or another, it overlaps. It should be situated alongside the work of Akerman and "Easy Rider". For me "Wanda" isn't exclusively feminist, it is an indictment on the decline of the  American way of life.

The first image in "Wanda"  is of a construction site with a bulldozer shoveling dirt. Then we see a beat up old house. There's an unattended baby crying, while an elderly woman (presumably the child's grandmother) prays and stares out of a window. Seeing these images I thought to myself, this is a movie about people or one particular person "under construction". Someone in need of repair. To be rebuilt from their foundation.

That person is revealed to us as Wanda (Barbara Loden), a young attractive woman who goes through life in a comatose state. She accepts whatever is thrown at her without the slightest protest. Nothing seems to phase her. When she is late for a court hearing, where her husband (Jerome Thier) not only wants a divorce but custody of their children, Wanda hardly says a word. In fact she tells the judge he should grant the divorce and to give her husband the children. They will be better off with him she claims. When she's let go from her job at a sewing factory, she can barely find the strength to deny her boss' claim that she's too slow. 

Within these scenes Loden is making a commentary on two fronts - gender and economy. Wanda's identity is as much tied to her economic status as it is her gender. The landscape is of  Pennsylvania coal country and to put it nicely, it's not flattering. These people are in economic despair. You can feel it in every interaction and conversation Wanda has. This is a reflection of the United States at the time, which was going through a recession in 1970 and high unemployment by 1971. President Nixon even took the U.S. off of the gold standard and this was seen as a contributing factor to a rise in inflation. Retroactive viewers, in my estimation, don't highlight the economic conditions of the 1970s enough in their reviews. For example, "Wanda" is part of the Criterion Collection and comes with an essay written by the critic Amy Taubin - who is a fine critic and I don't mean to criticize - but all Taubin does in her essay is provide biographical information on Loden, production details and firmly situates the film as an example of feminist filmmaking. This kind of thinking not only flattens the discussion and limits the nuance of the relationship between gender and economics, it also diminishes and ignores the historical context of the film.

And if we look at the economy from a women's perspective there were additional hurdles. In the early 70s women faced a lot of discrimination. Before 1974 it was difficult for a single woman to open a bank account or get credit without a male co-signer. In some cases even a married woman might not be able to open an account without her husband's permission. So not only are economic times hard but as a woman you lack further individuality and financial independence. This is why historical context is needed. Art often responds to its political and social conditions. If you are retroactively reviewing a film or any piece of art, helping an audience understand the social conditions in which it was made, helps us see deeper into the work and what it was a reaction to. Art doesn't exist in a vacuum. 

But even for a 1970s audience, for whom all of of this social climate was a daily reality, it is easy to imagine them scratching their heads and sit in indifference while watching the opening moments of "Wanda". The majority of the actors are not professionals. Their dialogue isn't polished. The characters speak slowly. And most off-putting for a mainstream audience, is that it doesn't appear to have a strong narrative plot. Nothing seems to be pushing this movie forward. Perhaps understanding an audience demands some kind of narrative, Loden switches gears from the mood and flavor of the town to a crime story. Wanda, unknowingly, becomes involved with a burglar, Dennis (Michael Higgins). He was robbing a bar when Wanda walked in to use the restroom. Oblivious to her surroundings, Wanda leaves the bar with Dennis, spends the night with him, and drives out of state with him. Eventually she discovers who Dennis is and what he has done but makes the decision to stick with him.

When "Wanda" was initially released in 1971, the critic for the New York Times described the film as a "crime melodrama" and not a character study. "Wanda" defies genre expectations. This isn't a crime picture in the same sense "Bonnie and Clyde" (1967) was a couple of years earlier. And even in that film's case, we can make the argument that it is more than a film about bank robbers. It is when Wanda meets Dennis that feminism becomes more prominent within the story. Wanda has no identity and latches on to the men in her life, allowing them to define her. Dennis is a textbook chauvinist. He slaps Wanda around and wants her to dress a certain way. In one scene Dennis confronts Wanda and informs her that she is not to wear slacks only dresses. Wanda adheres to these requirements and conforms. Why? Because in Wanda's mind, there is no path forward for her. She wouldn't know where to begin. Most people, upon hearing they are with a thief, would want to escape. Not Wanda. She's even given an opportunity to do so and in that crucial moment, declines the chance. What Wanda seeks is a man's validation. Which is clearly a concept society has ingrained in her. It makes for a "touching" moment later in the film between Dennis and Wanda when finally a kind word is spoken by him.

And despite the despicable behavior of Dennis, Loden and "Wanda" take the time to create a dual characterization. There is a contrast between how Dennis treats Wanda and how he treats his father. While a viewer's instinct may not grant any generosity towards the character, Dennis is also a victim of society. Why is he robbing bars and banks? Those aren't the actions of a person who believes he has a lot of options before him. A very generous and sympathetic reading of Dennis could assume the reason he wants Wanda by his side is for sincere companionship but he doesn't know how to express himself or allow himself to be emotionally vulnerable. If you accept that interpretation it then creates a contrast between Dennis and Wanda. She is nothing but vulnerable yet doesn't express her true feelings.

To be emotionally closed off and vulnerable is what gives "Wanda" its powerful ending. Just as there is a dichotomy presented in Dennis, Wanda exhibits her own duality in the film's final scene. We must question, is Wanda back to where she started? Is she mourning? Has she grown and finds that frightening? Just before the film's final image, Wanda finds herself with another man and for the first time, she resists his actions. She will not allow him to take advantage of her. Will she continue to drift? Is it any coincidence the name Wanda sounds close to wander? It is this ambiguity that I personally like. 

Prior to directing "Wanda", Loden was an actress, appearing on television with the great Ernie Kovacs. On the Kovacs show she was part of the famed Nairobi Trio - a trio of gorillas playing the tune Solfeggio - as the group's pianist. Additionally she appeared in feature films - "Wild River" (1960) and "Splendor in the Grass" (1961) - both directed by the man she would eventually marry, Elia Kazan. It has been well documented, in Kazan's own autobiography as an example, that there was an uncomfortable power dynamic at play between the two, with Kazan wanting to dominate Loden. It would explain a lot of what we see in "Wanda" and Loden's presentation of the character. 

In an interview with talk show host Dick Cavett, Loden appeared as a guest to promote "Wanda" and confessed she was very much like the lead character, a woman who was aimless in life and needed to be told what to do. It reminded me of an image in the film that perfectly symbolizes the character's dilemma - Wanda looking at her reflection in a broken mirror. Like the mirror itself, Wanda is shattered. 

Cavett, in the same interview, was almost trying to coax Loden into making a feminist statement about the difficulties of filmmaking and raising money. Loden wouldn't take the bait and said her difficulties were no different than what anyone else goes through to raise funds. But she did say something I find interesting that historically ties her into a certain film lineage. Loden said her small three person film crew approach to "Wanda" was like going back to the early days of cinema and just pointing a camera at people. The idea of that invokes the Lumiere Brothers and their actualities but it also speaks to a different lineage, which feminist would whole heartedly approve. Loden is like Alice Guy-Blache or Lois Weber, female filmmakers using the female experience to show the world what their lives are like and how they interpret the world. The best of their films also show us how their experience connects to the larger issues in society.

When "Wanda" was released it was at best a modest success in the United States. It gained greater acclaim overseas, even winning an award at the Venice Film Festival. It never found a real footing in the U.S. as part of the cultural temperament in film at the time. Maybe it was too low key. Too subtle in its commentary. Or simply not deemed significant enough by critics to bother analyzing it. New Yorker critic Pauline Kael called the film "drab". Judith Crist, maybe the most powerful critic at the time, wasn't too kind to the film either. It was only after many years that the film would begin to be spoken about with true admiration.

Whatever the reason was after "Wanda" Loden never directed a feature-length film again but did direct an educational short called "The Frontier Experience" (1975) which is included as a bonus feature on Criterion's DVD. Loden should have been a respected filmmaker and social critic. Cinema and art can only thrive when artists like Loden are given a voice and an opportunity. Could Kazan have shortened her career, as some have suggested over the years? Kazan even tried to take credit for "Wanda".

Unfortunately Loden, a North Carolina native, died at the age of 48 in 1980 after a two year battle with breast cancer. It is said Loden had several unproduced completed scripts and had plans to work on a play and direct a film adaptation of the novel "The Awakening". 

"Wanda" belongs on a short list among the best films of the 1970s. It captures the anxiety and alienation of a decade and serves as a time capsule representing a very important period in modern  American history. It is a remarkable film.